The Bee Farm
by happymealsandcastiel
Summary: Cas has been banished to a cottage in the middle of nowhere by Michael. He has no powers and is allowed no contact to the outside world. But what happens when he hears something he just can't ignore. T for safety.
1. Living with the Bees

**A/n: So this story was never finished, and I just found it again now. It ends in a way that I guess you could say was intentional, but I did mean to do more when I was originally writing it. The whole thing is done, and there are only six chapters. No more will be uploaded, and since it is already written, I can't take any suggestions. Thank you and enjoy. **

**Chapter One **

Castiel sat content on the porch in front of his wooden cottage. In truth, it wasn't really a cottage, as he lived there – just him and the bees. But it was a small, one room cabin, just enough room for him. It was built of massive, centuries old spruce trees and sat right in the middle of a green grass open field dotted with hundreds of white boxes. Those white boxes were bee hives, and they each contained hundreds of bees.

He licked his fingers, sucking on the sweet honey that presently coated them. The old wooden porch creaked as he leaned against a thick support beam to the overhanging roof. He lived on a bee farm, in the-middle-of-nowhere Oklahoma. He looked at his property – if he could really call it his. The whole place radiated serenity, and it made him feel the most at peace as he had in a long time.

The trees surrounding the field displayed their greened leaves proudly, offering a considerable amount of shade to the foliage beneath. Ivy climbed up the trunks, reaching desperately for even a toothpick sized piece of sunlight. There was nothing growing underneath, the trees all blocking the sun. Only a few dead shrubs and sticks protruded from the decomposing leaves that coated the ground.

There was something about living on the bee farm that Castiel liked. Something about the way the bees hummed as they worked, a high pitched song that most people would consider annoying, but Cas liked. He would follow them around, matching their pitch as they buzzed between the few apple trees and flower patches that also dotted the field.

The bees seemed to like Castiel. He liked to think that it was because they were the same, him and the bees. That he was just like them, collecting things and following orders for their queen, or, in his case, his father and older brothers. Maybe that's why he and the bees had a sort of mutual respect, an agreement if you will. Ever since Cas arrived at the farm, he hadn't needed to work for a single day. They collected their own nectar, made their own honey, even delivered some of it to Castiel.

Cas closed his eyes, the serene vision of the farm fading behind his eyelids to remember the day he arrived. It seemed like it had been so long ago, but it had only been thirty years.

"You're useless, Castiel. Too much heart was always your problem!" his older brother Michael had shouted at him. He had refused to cause an earthquake that would have killed hundreds of people.

"They have no reason to die, Michael. They have done nothing wrong," Cas had fought back.

"Everyone has to die someday, brother," Gabriel had tried to assure him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Castiel had shaken it off angrily.

"But not like _that_," he insisted. Michael shook his head. "It is not for us to decide what is and what is not to be."

"I won't do it, Michael. If you want to kill them, do it yourself!" he shouted.

"Cas, please," Gabriel started.

"This is not the first time you have defied my direct orders! I cannot let that go again without punishment." Castiel straightened up defiantly.

"Brother, please," said Gabriel again, this time to Michael. "Don't do this. He doesn't understand what he's doing."

"Enough, Gabriel! Leave us!" Gabriel looked at Michael pleadingly, and then his look changed to one of apology to Castiel and, with a flap of his golden wings, he was gone.

"I will not excuse you this time, Castiel. I had hoped I would not have to do this, but it is clear that you are not going to listen to my orders. I have set up somewhere for you to live, alone. You are banished from entering heaven, Castiel. And you are to use your powers as an angel neither for good, nor for evil. You are to be out of contact with the world as well, and any contact with any human is strictly forbidden. Do you understand?" Michael asked, trying to mask a look of regret with one of power.

Castiel was astounded. Michael had threatened banishment before, but he had never acted upon his threats.

"Goodbye, little brother."

"Michael wa-" Castiel was cut off when, with a snap of Michael's fingers, he found himself on the farm. Alone.

A bee landed on Cas' index finger, and he watched it crawl around with fascination, examining the black and yellow stripes beneath its fuzzy body. With warm and honey tasting breath, he blew on the bee and, after a moment's resistance, it took off into the humid afternoon summer air.

Cas probably thought about his banishment every day from the first day he got to the farm. More so at first though. It used to be that he thought about it almost all of the time, but now it was maybe once a day. He had forgotten some of the details. He wasn't even sure where they had been when Michael had banished him. In his memory it was simply the images of him, Michael, and Gabriel floating in a gray nothingness.

His blue eyes searched for the sun, intent on washing the memory away with the fire. He found it directly above him, beating down hot rays. He stared at it for a while. Unlike humans, angels could stare at the sun for as long as they wanted without fearing blindness.

The sun was burning ferociously, and Cas could make out tiny solar flares on the surface arching into the vast emptiness of space. He remembered when he had asked his father about the sun when he was younger.

"Their paths need always be lit," God had said, explaining its brightness. Everything his father did was for the humans. Castiel loved his father, and in consequence, he loved the humans as well.

Cas traced the sun across the sky, following its path until it was far under the tree line. The sky began to blacken, a few stars trying to fight the blackness when Cas finally decided it was time to go to bed.

Of course, since he was an angel, he didn't actually sleep, but the darkness unsettled him and being inside under an old quilt that was made by his-father-knows-who was very comforting after a whole day of being with the bees. He knew it was silly – being afraid of the dark, but somehow, it was one of the only things that kept him sane in his solitude.

Using the beam he was leaning against to pull himself up, Cas opened the heavy cabin door and stepped into a dimly lit room.

The floor of the cabin, like the walls, was made of ancient spruce wood cut into uneven planks. The walls were bare, except for a few shelves on the far wall that held several jars of honey and a single window to the left of the door that was blocked by heavy brown curtains. A small kitchen, consisting of an old wood stove with an old kettle to make honey tea on it, a sink, and a few cupboards containing more honey and some beeswax, was to the right of the centred door.

Tucked against the far corner of the room was a single bed, with an old quilt resting overtop. The rest of the cabin was empty, save for an old circular rug in the centre of the room and a lantern sitting atop a table in the kitchen area. The lantern never went out. That had not been Castiel's doing; the cabin was exactly the same from when he had first gotten there.

The whole cabin smelled of old spruce. Overall, the place was very homely for Cas.

He walked across the room, each step making the ancient floor creak in protest. Without even taking off his trench coat, which seemed to remain perfectly clean through all these years, Cas wrapped the quilt around himself, it smelled of honey, and laid down on the bed, closing his eyes.

**A/n: Most of the chapters will be about this length. Thank you and the next chapter will be uploaded in about a week. Hope you enjoy it so far. Stuff actually starts happening in the next chapter. **


	2. The Kitten

**A/n: I know I said I'd wait a week to publish the next chapter and it's only been two days but I got excited so here's the next one. Stuff has started to go down. Uh. yeah. Reviews are very welcome! Thank you and enjoy!**

The sound of what seemed to be a crying kitten brought Castiel's awareness back to the level of supposed consciousness. The sound was utterly horrid; it made Castiel cringe and a strong urge to protect the kitten from whatever was hurting or scaring it surged through him. He rose from his bed, hugging the quilt to his chest. It was then that he noticed the darkness that painted the walls of the room; the lantern had gone out.

Castiel kept the quilt around him as he rose unsteadily and started his way to where he knew the door must be. His heart rammed against his ribs, threatening to break through as he stumbled across the unfamiliarly dark room.

"You are not afraid of the dark, Castiel. You are an angel," he tried to convince himself aloud, but his quavering voice betrayed him.

The sharp pain of the door handle hitting his hip told him he had reached the door. He felt blindly for the handle. Locating it quickly, he curved his fingers around it and jerked back when he found it singing hot. The kitten wailed on.

Tentatively, he reached for the handle again, touching it a few times before confirming that it was suddenly normal temperature again. There was no evidence that it had ever been more than that, ignoring the slight reddening on his palm. Gripping the handle again, he pulled it open.

He stepped outside and was suddenly hit with a powerful light, one that was almost angelic in its intensity. He dropped the quilt and brought his hands to his face in an attempt to shield his burning eyes. It took a second for his eyes to adjust to the light, and even then it still hurt a little. He heard the kitten cry out again, and almost tripped over the quilt as he took a step.

Keeping one hand in front of his face acted as a sort of blind for Castiel as he started his way toward the forest – where the sound was coming from. There was a sort of ringing in his ears, the kind that you get after something right beside you blew up and you couldn't hear anything except the ringing, and the kitten.

The bees zipping by his ears seemed unaffected by the light, as if there wasn't any at all. He almost tripped over a few hives. They seemed to blend in nicely with the light. The forest seemed so far away, too far to reach. Like a time when he was a child.

"It's too far, Gabe," little Castiel whined to his big brother. Gabriel chuckled and picked his brother up, scratching his little head of hair affectionately.

"You can do it, Cas, I know you can. It's not that far. Try again," Gabriel said. Cas sighed and climbed back down to the clouds. He looked up; the little patch of cloud he was trying to fly to seemed like it would take even Gabriel _days _to fly there.

He flexed his small black wings. Their span was smaller than his body. The silver-speckled feathers ruffled a bit as he flapped them a couple times. Gabriel looked down at him and smiled encouragingly. Cas returned the look with one of doubt.

Quizzically, Castiel jumped a little into the air and started flapping furiously. The wings beat up and down like a hummingbird's but despite his efforts, he didn't seem to be going anywhere. With a sigh, he floated back to the clouds and landed awkwardly on his bottom. His brother laughed.

"I told you I couldn't do it," Cas said grumpily.

"You're not a bird, Castiel. Try again, but this time, just let your wings do it by themselves. You're trying too hard; they know what they're supposed to do."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Trust me, just try it."

Castiel rolled his eyes and stood up to try again. _Fly_, he commanded. Nothing happened. _Fine. Um, _Cas closed his eyes and flapped his wings once, concentrating as hard as he could on wanting to fly. Suddenly, he shot up into the sky. Gabriel cheered and Cas opened his eyes curiously. He was flying!

"Look Gabe!" he shouted. "I'm actually flying!"

"Yes you are, little brother," Gabriel shouted back, laughing.

Cas looked up, the cloud was practically right in front of him. He slowed down and landed gracefully on his feet. Before he could even blink, Gabriel was there with him.

"I told you that you could do it, didn't I?" he said, ruffling Castiel's hair. Cas hugged his brother's knees.

"Yes," he replied, the smile on his face didn't fade for days.

The forest was a lot closer. Castiel looked behind him. The cabin had all but disappeared in the rays of light. When he turned back, the trees were suddenly right in front of him. The smile from the memory fell quickly when he looked into the woods. When he could, he would avoid the forest. They were always dark, full of mystery.

The kitten cried again, louder this time. Castiel knew he had to go in. Taking a deep breath and holding it, he took the step that would plant him in the forest.

Thinking he had closed his eyes, Cas blinked a few times, but he had been suddenly plunged into darkness. Panicking in the dark, he stumbled backward, where the field would be again, but he took a few steps back and hit his head against the hard trunk of a maple tree. He whipped around but saw nothing but more darkness. There was no light. There was no field. There was only darkness and forest.

Cas sank down against the trunk of a tree, trying to ignore the impeding dark. The effort was fruitless as there was no light for his eyes to adjust to. He listened for something – anything, but it was deathly quiet. The sound of the crying kitten had disappeared.

Suddenly, he heard the cry again. It was louder, clearer, different. It was human.

**A/n: I will probably upload the next chapter in a few days. **


	3. The Man in the Woods

**A/n: Yeah some rates and reviews would be fantastic thanks guys. Anyway, enjoy this chapter, I hope you've been enjoying it so far.**

Castiel's eyes widened larger than they ever had before. If they went any wider, he would have been an owl. Still no light, but lots of sound. Rising and falling pained cries came from somewhere in front of Cas. He couldn't tell how far they were, but he could tell they were human.

If Castiel had known it was a human and not a kitten beforehand, he would have never come to look. He was strictly forbidden from seeing any humans. He had no idea what Michael would do to him if he were to go help the human, but it couldn't be anything good. Cas hugged his knees and tried to ignore the cries of pain.

He didn't know what to do. There was no way back, but he couldn't just sit there, that would be helping nobody. Weighing his options, Castiel debated searching for the human. He sounded like he needed help, and Cas really wanted to help him for some strange reason. There was some sort of desperateness to the sound that seemed to tear at Castiel's heart; almost pulling it toward the sound. Cas thought that maybe he could go the opposite way, search for the field. He couldn't risk searching for the human.

Cas stood and started blindly walking away from the sound. It felt like his heart was being ripped out his back for ignoring the human and he wondered what his father would think, leaving one of His special creations to die. Surely though, it would go up to heaven with Him anyway?

Suddenly, a root reached up and grabbed Castiel's ankle, sending him sprawling to the ground. He landed hard on his face; he hadn't had enough time to react and put his hands in front of him to block his fall. He felt something scrape his face, and something warm trickled down from the cut. Pushing himself up, Cas found that he was slightly shaking. The fall had shocked him. He had been so lost in his thoughts that he had forgotten about the darkness and then lost his footing.

He stood and almost immediately forgot about the cut on his face, the blood now slowing down and already starting to coagulate. Stumbling, he began to start walking again in the direction he thought he was going. There was another cry, but it somehow seemed closer, and in front of him. Though his confusion, he had somehow gotten turned around.

Castiel stopped and whirled around, now running in the opposite direction with his hands out in front of him to avoid hitting trees. He ran through brush and twigs, some scraping across his face and catching on his coat, offering new tears in the fabric. The cry rang out again, and again, it was in front of him.

Cas began panicking. He couldn't get away. The darkness seemed to be sinking into him, crushing him from air supply and hugging his heart with its cruel claws. Anxiety bubbled inside him and he collapsed to his knees, clutching himself tightly like he was in a strait jacket. His breathing became erratic, and his heart danced to an unusual rhythm.

"Brother, calm down." Castiel felt a warm, familiar hand on his shoulder. Another hand appeared and they reached under his elbows, pulling him up and toward a body. The body hugged him tightly and whispered reassurances. One hand went up and ruffled Cas' hair.

"Gabe?" Cas whispered.

"Yes," Gabriel whispered. He turned his brother to face him, and gently forced his arms to his sides. Gabe looked around at the dark room they were in. "So this is where Michael put you huh?" Cas nodded, the image of his brother in front of him still a shock.

"Why," Cas started to find his proper voice again. "Why are you… how are you here?" Gabriel smiled mischievously and snapped his fingers. A dim light poured out of a lantern sitting on a table in a makeshift kitchen in the corner of the room. Castiel stared at it curiously for a second, then back at his brother, relaxed now that it was bright again.

"It took a little, but I finally convinced Michael to tell me where you were," Gabe winked.

"Really?"

"No," Gabriel laughed. "I searched for a year before I found this little place. If you weren't crying like a baby afraid of the dark I might not have found you."

Cas looked at the ground sheepishly. He had been afraid of the dark since he was a baby angel, and Gabe would always come when he cried of it. It seemed like that childhood phobia had crept back to him.

"I am glad you did," he said.

"Me too," Gabe replied. "Now listen Castiel, because this is important. I don't think I can stay long."

"What? Why?" Castiel said, clearly distraught.

"It seems like Michael has put up some pretty powerful angel wards everywhere. They seem to be just to keep you in, and others out. I had a hard time getting in here. That lantern," he said, pointing toward the thing keeping the room aglow, "will burn forever, okay? You don't have to ever be in the dark. If it ever goes out, well…" he paused, as if unsure whether to tell Cas something important. "You'll see." Gabriel smiled.

"But why can you not take me with you?" Castiel asked desperately, ignoring Gabriel's riddle.

"It doesn't work that way, Castiel." A strained look was drawn over Gabe's face, like he was fighting some internal enemy. His image began to shimmer a bit.

"What is happe-"

"Shh. I will always hear your prayers, little brother." With those last words, Gabriel's image disappeared entirely, without even the flap of his wings.

Castiel's hands fell to his sides, a ghostly hand from his reverie fading on his shoulder. He focused, praying to his brother for help to calm down. Slowly but surely, his lungs worked properly again and the claws began to retract from their hold in his heart. He closed his eyes for a second, and when he opened them, if he focused hard enough, he could make out the outline of the trees and the rest of the forest.

Standing, he looked around him, his eyes trying to pierce through the dark. There was no discernible way out. It was quiet. Another cry met his ears. This time, though, it was quiet, but it was close. The human seemed to be fading into unconsciousness.

Without a second thought, Cas took off in the direction of the cry, pulled by some unseen rope lassoed around his heart. He could smell the human now, but it was not a good scent. It was one of blood, sweat and even death. The human had been hurt badly. Suddenly he burst into an open field. It was dark, only the pale moon lighting up the centre. Wading through unkempt grass and purple flowers, Cas made his way to the centre, where he knew the human would be.

When he reached the centre, his breath was taken away at the sight lying in the middle. A body, barely breathing, barely conscious, was illuminated by the moonlight. It was the body of a man in his thirties. Long, deep cuts tore through his torso, reaching from neck to groin. He was covered in mud, leaves, and blood. Especially blood. It was everywhere. Covering the man's fair face, his built middle, his strong legs. Struggled breathing forced the chest up and down in heaves, the cuts enlarging with each inhalation.

The man's eyes were closed, much to Castiel's relief. It would make what he knew he was going to do next easier. Cas kneeled next to the torn up man and took off his trench coat. It was ripped a lot near the bottom from blindly running through the woods. He placed it over the man's chest, and tucked it under his back with tender hands. The man didn't complain of pain, telling Cas that he had lost consciousness. Gently, ever so gently, he slid one arm under the man's back, right under his arms, and the other arm under his knees. With little effort, Cas got to his feet, and cradled the man at his own chest, making sure the trench coat was tight around the man's wounds.

_And you are to use your powers as an angel neither for good, nor for evil. _Michael's words echoed through Castiel's head, and he knew he couldn't do anything to heal the human except with his own methods. Taking one more look around the field, Cas could have sworn he heard a hound-like growl before he took off running in the direction he somehow knew was home.

**A/n: I'll update in another couple days. Thanks for reading! Please please rate and review. :) **


	4. Honey

**A/n: And here's the next chapter! Hurray! Only two more to go huzzah. Okay well enjoy and your reviews are very welcome! Thank you! **

Whether it was by some sort of buried instinct or built-in locator, Castiel knew exactly which direction to run for home. The path he travelled seemed lit with a dimmer version of that angelic light from before. His footsteps fell silently on the forest floor, no longer tripping over sticking up roots and twigs.

The man's laboured breathing came in rasping grasps for air, and his eyes moved rapidly under his closed eyelids, indicating some sort of nightmarish dream state. His body felt warm against Cas', but it might have been the sticky blood that was now seeping through and staining the trench coat. His arms and legs draped limply from where Castiel's arms held him, and Cas wished he could pull them up, but he knew he didn't have the time.

Like it was the finish line of a race, he leapt out of the forest carrying the man. Bees swarmed around him, as if they were welcoming back their long lost friend and landed curiously on the man's chest, crawling over the blood. Castiel shooed them away with a few gentle words. They took off and cleared his path to the cabin.

He reached the cabin climbed onto the porch. He almost tripped over the quilt that still lay on the ground from when he had dropped it there before he kicked open the heavy door, busting its rusted iron hinges. Light from the doorway flooded into the otherwise dark room, shining a faint spotlight on the bed. Somehow night had turned to midday and the darkness was no longer there to frighten him. After he had rushed to the bed, Castiel gently lowered the man onto the sheets. There was no longer any beige colour in the part of the trench coat that covered the man's chest; it was now just a sickening red.

There was not enough light for Cas to see the man properly, so he hurried to the curtains and shoved them open, dust falling carelessly from where it had collected on the unused window. The window was positioned perfectly to allow the right beam of light to concentrate on the bed where the man lay. Cas threw off the jacket to his suit and pulled at the blue tie constricting his neck. He threw both items on the floor and hurried back to the man, undoing a button at his neck on the white dress shirt and pushing up the sleeves just past his elbows. His chest was already covered in the man's blood and he marvelled that the man was still alive. But he knew it couldn't be for much longer.

It took a little to get the trench coat off the body to have a closer look at the wounds – the blood had made it stick a little, but when he did, Castiel was at a loss for words. The cuts looked like they were from some kind of animal claws, maybe even a giant hound or something. They were jagged, nonsurgical, almost looking like they got caught in something on the way down. And they were full of mud and tiny sticks – everything that could possible make the cut infected, if the man was even going to survive.

"What do I do?" Cas whispered to himself, his voice getting caught in his throat. He prayed to his brother again, but this time, there was no answer.

The year was 1950. Castiel had just turned of age for his first demon hunt. He and Gabriel stood together on a few clouds, looking down on the world.

"Are you ready, brother?" Gabriel grinned down at Castiel. Cas nodded anxiously, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet nervously.

"Good. Here's the plan. There's a demon hideout in Normal, Illinois in the United States. We are going to go in and take them out. I'll go in the back and flush them out the front, where you'll be waiting. Got it?" Cas nodded again, too excited to say anything.

"Alright, let's go then." With that, Gabriel flapped his golden wings and disappeared. Cas flapped his own and found himself outside the entrance. Gabe was nowhere to be seen. The hideout was a simple almost hobbit-like hole in the ground. The grass was dead around the large wooden door. An iron fence was the medium between the brown and green grass. It was silent, not even the sound of birds seemed to penetrate the invisible barrier between the fenced hideout and the rest of the world.

Cas had never killed a demon before. Hell, he had never even seen one. He knew that they were supposed to look like a human, but being an angel, he was supposed to be able to see through the meat suit and into the soulless creature that inhabited it. That was what he was most anxious about. His brothers had told him that the demons were terrifying, grotesque in nature. Black flesh clinging to the shape of a face, dripping to a body of the same darkened blood. Cas clenched and unclenched his fists, unsure of what to expect, and, frankly, getting rather impatient waiting for Gabriel to flush them out.

It was then that the door burst open, and the creature ran out. Castiel stumbled back, utterly astounded by the thing in front of him. His brothers had forgotten to mention the fire that seemed to pour and dance around the black flesh, burning but not destroying. Simply existing.

The demon ran at Castiel, not looking where it was going, but behind him where the larger angel had been. Cas held out his hand, more in defense than an intent to attack it. The demon ran straight into it. Suddenly Cas felt a power surge through his body. The demon screamed. Its eyes burned with white. White light poured from its mouth as well. The power surge failed and the demon crumpled, presumably dead.

Too busy staring at his first demon kill, Castiel didn't notice the second demon running out of the hideout. This time, the demon was watching where it was going. It ran for the distracted angel, reaching forward with its demon claws. It jumped on him, attacking his face and chest. Tearing with its strong finger-like claws, it attacked the angel relentlessly. Castiel screamed in pain and pushed against the demon's face, but the demon had caught him by surprise, and his strength was failing him.

A fist was on its way to Castiel's face when suddenly, it was caught and the demon was torn off the angel. A man stood over Cas. He reached into his pocket calmly, closing his fist around something inside. The demon screamed in anger and rushed at the man. The man began chanting under his breath. Too low for a recovering Castiel to hear. He could make out that it was Latin, but that was about it. His chant was quick, and just as the demon was about to reach him, he pulled his hand out of his pocket and opened it in front of his face, blowing some sort of dust into the demon's face. It stopped and stared at the man for a second before it looked toward the sky and screamed again. Black smoke columned out of the demon's mouth into the sky. It swirled around in the air for a couple seconds before flying away. The meat suit collapsed.

The man knelt next to the suit and pushed two fingers against the young woman's neck. He swore under his breath when he felt nothing and turned his attention to the stunned angel instead.

"Hey kid, you alright?" he asked. Castiel sat up and felt some blood run down his face.

"Yes, I am fine," he said. He would get Gabriel to fix him up later. Castiel wasn't too good at the whole self-healing thing. He would be fine. The man, however, didn't seem to think so.

"Got you pretty good, didn't it?" he asked. Cas didn't respond. The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a small container. He twisted it open and dipped his finger inside. When he pulled it out, it was coated in a yellowish clear cream. He reached toward Castiel's cut, but the angel flinched back.

"It's okay, this'll help." Curiously, Cas let the man apply the ointment on his face. The man muttered something else in Latin and almost immediately, the pain stopped, not that there was much.

"Thank you," Cas said, sincerely. He looked at the container. He was not aware that humans had yet developed such healing ointments. "What is that?" he asked.

"Just honey, curiously enough," replied the man. "And a bit of Latin magic of course," he added, looking at Castiel expecting him to question him; but Cas just nodded.

"Anyway, I have to go, try to stay away from here kid. Dangerous place."

"Wait. What is your name?" Cas asked. He wanted to know the name of the man who saved him.

"Henry," the man replied. "Henry Winchester."

In a frantic rush, Castiel raced to the shelf and crammed as many jars of honey as he could into his arms. One fell and shattered on the floor, but Cas didn't notice. He hurried to the man's side and knelt down. He ripped off the rest of the man's shirt, tossing the scraps to the floor next to him. Though his shaking hands made it difficult, he twisted open the jar and plunged his hand inside. He scooped as much as he could and placed it onto the man's chest, massaging it into the cuts and scrapes. His hand was covered in as much blood as honey, but he kept going, making a thick layer, each touch causing the man to flinch and whimper in his sleep.

He stopped. He couldn't remember the Latin words. Panicking, he searched his brain. He knew the memory was there, it had to be. Then he knew.

"Sit haec, curari hominis cicatrices," he whispered. _Let this man's scars be cured._

For a minute, nothing happened. Then the cuts began to faintly glow and his body shook a little. The cuts became smaller, shrinking and stitching together. The honey seeped into the man's chest, being absorbed by the power. So close the cuts came to being cured altogether, but they stopped. They were still a good quarter-inch apart, but they were better than they were before, and they had stopped bleeding.

"Thank you Father. Thank you Father." Castiel whispered, crying in thanks. He ran outside and grabbed the quilt. When he came back inside, he wrapped the quilt over the man's clean chest, covering the cuts.

Castiel sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the man. Silently he vowed to keep the man safe. He took the man's hand and held it tight. He wasn't sure he'd ever let go. He would save this man.

**A/n: Yeah, go Cas. Alright, next chapter in a few days! **


	5. Feather Sheddings

**A/n: There's only one more chapter left after this! I hope you have enjoyed it so far! Sorry for the slow update, I was camping over the weekend. (Yyay) Okay well here you are. **

It was midnight. A full moon shone its light through the still open curtains and onto the man's handsome face. Darkness sat in the corners of the room, like it had done every other night, but this time, it didn't seem drawing. This time, it was more just there. Sitting, renting the spot. It would move on in due time. Castiel was no longer afraid of the dark, not with the man there.

He was still holding the man's hand. It had been a week, maybe more, since Castiel had brought the man to his house, and he had not moved from the bedside except to get food for the man. He did not know what the man ate, and he did not have much. As an angel, he did not need to eat and was not used to having a human around to feed. So he simply fed him honey and some berries that he had found growing on a bush beside the cabin.

The man's condition seemed unchanging. Night after day, he would continue breathing in and out, his chest rising and falling, but nothing more. Nothing except at night, when the dreams would come. His comatose state would be fine during the daytime. He seemed dreamless, just simply unconscious. But during the night, Castiel was sure it would be nightmares racing through his mind as his whole body would shake and he would whimper. Whimper like a little boy afraid of thunderstorms. And Cas would hold his hand, tighter than ever, assuring him that he would be fine.

He held his hand now; tight, and against his heart so the human could feel the beating of the angel's heart. The man's hand tightened and loosened with the rest of his body, shaking in time with a devilish nightmare. Every night when the dreams would come, Castiel would pray to his father. Pray that He banish his sinful brother away from the human, but He never responded.

The two were silent, except for the whimpering. The whimpers never made sense. They were just sounds. Just sounds that a human made when he was in pain. Just sounds, until now. "Please… help" the man said. It was hardly audible. Less than a whisper, but still they were words. Castiel looked into the man's face, and squeezed his hand.

"Yes?" he asked, unsure of what else he could say.

"Don't hurt him, please," the man said quietly. Oh, so quietly.

"No one is going to get hurt. It is okay. You are safe," Castiel tried to assure him.

"Help," the man said, this time a little louder.

"You are safe," Cas repeated.

The man didn't say anything else for the rest of the night. Cas' eyes had closed soon after their speaking. It had been days since he had closed them. They were always open, watching, caring for the man. And he was tired. His hand was no longer clenching the man's, but rather resting protectively overtop.

"Where?" came a hoarse whisper that brought Castiel back into his awake state. His vision was blurry for a second, but it adjusted and he looked to the man's face. The eyes were open, looking around, panicking. Green, the brightest green that Castiel had ever seen before, searching for anything familiar.

"Where am I?" his voice whispered, this time more sure. Cas gently took his hand of the man's and placed it instead on his face. The man had grown a small beard from a week of not being shaved, and Cas felt its hairs under his fingers as he moved his hand up to the man's forehead to feel his temperature. It was hot. Too hot. Fever hot.

"You are safe," he said to the man. "Now rest." The man appeared not to hear Cas, and bolted up, yelping when the cuts tore pain into his chest. One hand reached in front of him and hugged his stomach. Cas pushed him back onto the bed, and the man did not resist.

"Where am I?" the man asked again.

"At my home. I found you in the woods, torn up, and I brought you back here. What happened?" Cas asked. The man shook his head, seeming confused.

"I don't… Who are you?" he asked.

"My name is Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord."

"Uh-huh…" said the man, raising an eyebrow.

"Now you must sleep, you have a fever," Castiel insisted, getting up and walking to the cupboards. He pulled out a bowl and a washcloth. After he filled the bowl with cold water, he walked back over to the bedside. The man had sat up and was leaning against the backboard of the bed, his bare chest exposed from the blankets but his legs still underneath. Cas sat on the edge of the bed and placed the bowl beside him. He dipped the cloth in the bowl and wrung out the excess water.

"You don't need to take care of me, I'm fine," said the man. His face was very pale and his eyes bloodshot. There were dark bags underneath them, despite having been asleep for so long. Cas ignored him and held the cool cloth to his forehead. It was obviously a nice feeling, as the man didn't push him away.

"What is your name?" he asked.

"You don't know?" the man asked. Castiel was confused.

"No. How could I?"

"You're an _angel of the Lord,"_ the man said in a mocking tone.

"That does not mean I know everything."

"Oh. Well then. My name is Dean Winchester." _Winchester_. Cas was sure he had heard that name before, but he just shook it off. He nodded and took the cloth off Dean's forehead. It was already warm. He dipped it in and wrung it out again then placed it back on his forehead. He didn't know how to care for someone, but this was the best he could do. He had only been sick once in his life.

"You have to lay still, Cassy," said Gabriel, pushing the little angel back into his bed of clouds.

"But why?" asked Castiel, bored of having to stay there for so long.

"Because if you keep moving, your feathers are never going to grow back," insisted his older brother. Cas crossed his arms and stared angrily at the space above them.

"Why is it so hot?" he complained. Gabriel sighed and squeezed out a cloud onto a cloth. He held it to Cas' head.

"Because that's how it works brother. You're going to have to get used to it. It won't last much longer. Trust me?" Cas sighed. He had been stuck there for what seemed like forever. He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to leave his bed. Not while his brother was watching him anyway.

When an angel was old enough, he would shed his old feathers for new ones, like how baby humans would lose their old teeth. At first, it was gradual, almost unnoticeable, but after a couple years, they would start to fall out really quickly, and the angel would be stuck in bed. It was terribly painful as well. Each feather felt like it was violently plucked from the wing and the spot was set on fire to make it worse. Once all the feathers were shed, leaving a naked wing, the new ones would start to grow.

This was the stage Castiel was at. Black and silver feathers were littered around him, sitting on the ground. His wings were extended far on each side of him, red and raw from all the lost feathers. Luckily, no one made fun of him for it. They had each gone through the same thing and knew how painful it was. So for once, no one said a word against him.

But though the other pain was gone, Cas still felt horrible. His whole body was searing hot, and his wings felt like they had been dipped into a fiery pit. Nothing Gabe could do could lessen the pain, and so Cas just had to sit through it.

Some nights were worse than others. This night was one of the worst in a long time. Cas lay with his eyes closed, whimpering. Gabriel was petting his hair gently in an attempt to soothe him.

"It's okay, brother. It'll be alright. Do you want me to tell you a story?" he asked. The little angel managed to nod his head.

"All right. Once there was an angel. One day, when he was about your age, he began to lose his feathers. They all started falling, and the angel didn't know what to do. His two older brothers, Michael and Lucifer, had never said anything to him about it. In fact, they never paid much attention to him at all. They were always too busy going at it with one another.

"The angel did not know what to do. His feathers still fell out and so he locked himself up in his room. He watched them fall, even tore some of them out in frustration. All four of his wings felt like they were on fire. His feathers were grey then. But they were red when they came out.

"It took a long time. Probably felt longer to him than it actually was. When all his feathers had gone, the angel sat and he cried. He cried for a long time. His wings were so ugly. Bare, and covered in bloody patches where the angel had ripped out clumps of feathers. That was when his father came to him. He had heard the angel crying, and He came and sat next to him. He told him that he needn't fear. That it was natural. That he would wait. Patience came with wondrous results.

"The angel woke up the next morning and felt different. He felt fine. Better than fine. Then he looked at his wings, and can you guess what he saw?"

Cas shook his head. He had stopped whimpering, immersed in his brother's story.

"He saw that they were golden, Castiel. He saw that his plain grey feathers had been replaced by something magnificent. Golden feathers. And oh, did they shine. When he came out, his brothers were so jealous. It had been hard, but it was more than worth it at the end."

Castiel's eyes were open, and they were staring at his brother. That was not a story he had heard before, and yet there was something familiar about it.

"Was that angel you, Gabe?" he asked. His brother smiled and dabbed Cas' forehead with the wet cloth.

"Yes, Castiel. That angel was me."

"Castiel? Castiel, are you okay?" A voice brought Cas back into the world with Dean. Dean was staring at him, a look of confusion and concern occupied his expression.

"Yes, I am fine," Cas replied quizzically.

"You like, blacked out there or something for a minute."

"Oh," was all Castiel could think to say. His hand was no longer on Dean's forehead, but in his lap. The damp cloth had made a spot on his pants a little wet as well, but he didn't seem to notice. He just dipped it back into the bowl and wrung it out before placing it back on Dean's head.

The two of them sat like that for a while. Cas caring for Dean, and Dean enjoying being the one cared for. It seemed to Cas like nothing else mattered but the man. He was the only important one, and he had some feeling like he would give up everything for him. What he didn't know though, was what that would mean.

**A/n: Okay, the last chapter will be uploaded soon. I hope you've enjoyed it so far. Reviews are always fantastic! Thanks.**


	6. The End

**A/n: Wow this is the last chapter! When I first started writing this there was going to be another 3 or 4, but I give up and ended it here. It doesn't wrap up every single conflict, and for that I apologize, but it ends nicely I think. Thank you, everyone, for sticking with me through this. And to all those waiting for the second chapter of Mr. Comatose, I am so sorry I am working on it I promise. Exams are next week so I'm a little busy. Anyway, enjoy this!**

It had been a week since Dean had woken up. An entire week of the two men stuck in the small cabin together. Castiel came and left often enough to tend to the bees, but he stayed as close as he could to the cabin. For some reason, he felt as if he shouldn't wander too far from Dean. As if there was something coming, something dangerous, and he needed to be there to protect him.

Dean didn't leave the cabin much himself. Besides the fact that basically every time he moved it felt as if his insides wanted to be outsides, Dean wasn't really a fan of bees. And since they were on a bee farm, as he had soon found out, Dean knew that they would be everywhere. So he spent the days and nights moving around the cabin trying to gain his strength back.

In that week, Dean had gained a lot more strength back than he thought was possible to do in that short of time. His fever had gone down quite quickly and he was back to a normal temperature. Dean wasn't quite sure of anything. Besides the miraculous healing, there were several things that still didn't make sense to him. The first was this man claiming to be an angel. Surely he couldn't be? His entire life and Dean had never come across an angel. Plenty of ghosts and demons, sure, but an angel? He supposed it was possible, there were, after all, demons. But angels would mean that there would be a God.

Ever since he was little, Dean would pray. Not often, sure, but in the times he needed it. The times when there wasn't enough food for him and his little brother Sammy, or the times when his father wouldn't come home for days after he promised to come back. The Christmases spent alone, him and Sam in a shabby motel room, the nights when the thunder and rain made baby Sammy cry and nothing Dean could do would soothe him. Those were the times when he prayed. Because those were the times when he felt most alone. And never once had he been answered. There was no God as far as Dean was concerned.

Another thing that Dean couldn't quite fit together was how he had gotten there. How he had ended up in the woods outside the farm. It was as if he just appeared there. His memory eluded him, the only thing he seemed to remember was a growling and a ripping. Like when you tear a sheet and the threads protest as they are separated, only, it was his chest, not a piece of fabric. And the growling. Like a dog, but more than that. More of a hound.

Dean spent the days he spent in the cabin trying to piece together these memories, but he just couldn't. He wasn't even sure of his last memory before being ripped to shreds. He and Sam had been in Iowa, or was it Pennsylvania, hunting a vampire's nest, or maybe it was a poltergeist. The last month seemed to mix together and thinking about it just made Dean even more confused. The only thing he could decide on was that he would leave as soon as he was physically capable, which he hoped would be soon.

It was midsummer at that time. From what Dean could see out the windows, there was a magnificent forest surrounding the open white-dotted field. The leaves were very green and he wished he could go outside. But he didn't want to be stung. Castiel had told him that the bees wouldn't sting him, that they were friendly, but he didn't believe him. They were bees after all.

That night, Dean was lying in Castiel's bed staring at the ceiling. The "angel" didn't ever seem to sleep. Most nights he would just sit in a chair a few feet from the bed and watch him sleep. The first couple of nights when he was conscious, Dean had found this very strange and a little creepy, but after time he found that it made him feel safe. Usually a man over another man's bed would warrant the original feeling of strangeness, but it was almost like Castiel was acting as Dean's "guardian angel" and Dean was alright with that.

Cas was humming quietly to himself, a tune that Dean didn't recognise. He figured it was probably something meant to be sung or hummed with more voices, as there seemed to be some missing harmonies in the otherwise beautiful sounding song.

Closing his eyes, Dean pictured to himself what Heaven would be like. As a child, he had always thought it was made of clouds and just that. Shaped into beautiful arches and buildings they spiraled up endlessly into the never-ending blue of the sky. But now, he added some green into the picture, dotting the white with trees and bushes. That seemed nice.

Dean's reverie was interrupted by a sudden stop of Castiel's humming, which seemed to be powering it. He sat up in the bed painfully and looked over at the angel. He was sitting very straight in the chair, too straight. His eyes were slightly squinted, but very attentive, and his chin was slightly raised like a dog that's caught the whiff of a stray cat in its territory.

"What's up?" Dean asked. He was shushed as soon as he opened his mouth. "What?" he asked again stubbornly. This time Castiel shot him a look that said 'be quiet unless you want to lose your tongue.' That shut him up, but he still stared at the angel, who had turned to look at the door, as if expecting it to burst open.

Then he heard it. It was quiet, but it was there. A growl. A faint, hungry, angry growl. Dean's eyes opened wide. It was the same sound he had been hearing the past week in his dreams and thoughts. It was the only thing he remembered from his attack. That growl came from whatever attacked him, and it was coming back to finish the job.

Suddenly everything came back to him.

They had been on the run for only a few days, and they knew they were losing the race. Dean had realised on the first day that it was only after him, not his little brother. It took him just as long to decide what had to be done. He had to run without Sam. It was the only way to protect him, Dean was sure, but he had procrastinated and stayed with his brother, knowing that when he would leave, he would probably never come back.

That had gone on now for too long, Dean knew. He looked one more time over at his brother, sleeping peacefully on the cheap motel bed before quietly opening the door and stepping out over the now broken line of goofer dust. He'd leave the car to Sam, he decided, and started walking in the direction of somewhere, anywhere.

He wasn't sure why the hound was after him. Legend states that to get a hellhound after you, you had to have made a deal with the devil. And who in their right mind would ever do that? Dean was pretty sure it was a hellhound after him though, despite the inconsistencies in the myth. When the thing howled, it felt as if your blood was solidifying in your veins, and when it raked its claws against your door, you prayed to every God you never thought was really out there to save your sorry ass. Yes, it had to be a hellhound.

It wasn't long before he could hear the thing's claws tapping on the pavement behind him, the hungry pants and ferocious growls. He took off running, finding himself suddenly in the woods. Dark woods. Very dark. But he ran. And he never stopped running, until he tripped. There were no lights, no way to see his path, so he tripped. And he didn't get up. Instead, he simply turned around and lay face up. If he was to die, he would see the face of the thing that finally got him. The only monster that never shivered at the mention of the name "Winchester."

Out of the woods it came into the little clearing that Dean found himself in. But it didn't attack right away. First, it looked up into the moonless sky and let out a howl. But this howl was different than any of the others Dean had heard before. It was almost… anesthetic-like. Dean was no longer afraid. He looked at the hound as it paced toward him, circling him a couple times before coming face to face with him.

Red eyes. Blood red, fire red, Hell red. Those were the eyes that stared into Dean before one last growl right into his ear as the thing raised one massive paw and swiped it across Dean's chest. The wave of fear rewashed over Dean and he screamed in both that fear and the immense pain that rushed through his entire body like acid. The hound growled and circled Dean again, watching as he shivered and whimpered and screamed from the pain.

Just as it was about to swipe again, to finish the job, it suddenly stopped. Its ears went straight back, hearing something. Then it growled and ran off into the woods, leaving Dean there to slowly die of blood loss. Dean wasn't sure how long he laid there until he felt the hands on his body. Once he felt them though, he knew Sammy had come to save him, and he could finally rest, he would be safe for now.

Suddenly the door exploded, wooden debris flying about the room as a massive four-legged figure bounded through the opening. Ignoring Castiel, it howled the same eerie anesthetic howl from the first attack before it launched itself toward Dean. The angel stood in shock, not knowing if he could do anything at all. Dean simply closed his eyes; there was nothing he could do, that he was sure of.

The last thing Dean could remember after the hound ripped him to shreds one last time was Castiel finally ripping himself out of his paralysed state and rushing over to Dean's mangled body, taking it up in his arms and cradling it against his own. Dean already started to feel cold, and his body was drained of warmth. Everything was cold in the end when he finally died, everything except his hand, encased in that of the angel's.

**A/n: That's it everyone! Maybe I'll write a sequel if I feel up to it, but who knows. I love you all. **


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